


i'm gonna live, i'm gonna fly [i'm gonna fail, i'm gonna die]

by pagan_mint



Category: Imperial Radch Series - Ann Leckie
Genre: Blood and Gore, Gen, Post-Canon, Whump, awn is mentioned, breq hasn't had a feeling in years, ekalu is kind of just there, medic is overworked, seivarden just has so many feelings, seivarden swears and breq suffers, sphene is nastier than canon would perhaps imply
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-22
Updated: 2017-09-22
Packaged: 2019-01-04 03:17:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12160434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pagan_mint/pseuds/pagan_mint
Summary: Seivarden stepped forward, eyes spitting fire. “I’ve met a lot of ships,” she said lowly. “And I haven’t been as nice to them as I ought to, but I’m learning. I’m learning that ships have feelings too, and wants and needs, and that I like ships. But you?” Seivarden leaned in, a smirk worthy of the House of Vendaai curling across her aristocratic features. “Until I met you, I didn’t know that ships could bedicks.”Sphenegasped. Ekalu said “Aatr’stits,Seiv.” Through Five,Mercy of Kalrannounced, “Fleet Captain is about to lose consciousness.”





	i'm gonna live, i'm gonna fly [i'm gonna fail, i'm gonna die]

**Author's Note:**

> title from "oh no!" by marina & the diamonds, despite breq absolutely not know exactly what she wants and who she wants to be (though she does know exactly why she walks and talks like a machine)

I supposed, in retrospect, that it should have been obvious.

“Stop screaming,” I said. Or rather, I whispered. Being impaled by a metal pole was not only an unpleasant experience, but made speaking difficult. “I’ll be alright.”

“ _You’ll be_ \- you’ve been fucking _gored!”_ Seivarden screeched. We were too far from _Mercy of Kalr_ for me to reach out and determine her exact feelings, but I knew from experience that she was working herself into hysterics. “That’s a far cry from _alright!"_

“But I'm not dead,” I pointed out - reasonably, I thought. The pole was working quite effectively as a stopper for the damage it had caused; at this point, my life would be in greater danger if it was removed. “I’m sure Medic can fix me.”

“Medic isn’t _here_ ,” Seivarden wailed. Her gaze darted hysterically across my current situation; the pole had run me completely through, effectively nailing me to the ground. I was half-upright, holding onto it with both hands to keep myself from sliding along it any more than I already had, its vibrant chromium surface already smeared with a not-insubstantial amount of my blood. “And we’re too far underground to send for help. I can - I’ll have to carry you - ”

“You’ll do no such thing,” I said, my voice calm but firm. Even without the connection from _Mercy of Kalr_ , I felt a wave of despair from Seivarden wash over me at my words. “We didn’t come down into this unstable mine shaft for fun. We came here to rescue those missing miners.” Well, I had. But that was my own fault; at this point, I should have known that Seivarden would always accompany me wherever it was feasible, regardless of my own personal preference.

Seivarden seemed to realize this as well, her face working through a variety of emotions before it settled on what seemed to be a unique cocktail of despair and self-loathing. “Fuck, Breq. This is my fault. You pushed me out of the way - if I hadn’t come with you - ”

“But you did,” I said, my voice intentionally sharp. “Snap out of it, Seivarden. Those miners need us, and now you’re the only one who can help them. I don’t matter.” It wasn’t intended to be a self-depreciatory statement. I was hardly the echelon of leadership some made me out to be. Besides - “I can last longer than a human. I’m built for it. If you hurry, you can save all of us.”

Seivarden was clearly torn, taking a step forward and then one back, looking at me plaintively as if that would somehow make me change my mind. “Breq,” she said, her voice breaking.

“The longer you take,” I pointed out, “the more blood I lose.” And I was losing a lot; not particularly fast, but I could feel it seeping out of my injury, soaking the back of my shirt. Kalr Five would not be pleased about that; it was one of my nicer shirts. The thought made me let out a tiny laugh, a smile curving up the corner of my mouth.

“Oh, Amaat, you’re delirious,” Seivarden groaned. “Alright, fine. But - Breq,” she said insistently, her voice tight and anxious. “When I get back - be alive.”

“I’ll do my best,” I told her. Now she was the one who laughed, an agitated bark of sound.

“Your best is better than most people’s,” she said, and then she was gone, moving further into the mine shaft at what I deemed a frankly unsafe pace. I watched her light bob up and down until I could no longer see a trace of it; then, finally, I released my grip on the pole, slumping back and letting it take all of my weight.

Not that I was giving up, of course. I had known from the moment I’d been impaled that I wasn’t going to make it. That was the thing about being an ancillary; you had an almost hyper-vigilant awareness of exactly what could and could not kill you. A sharpened metal pole swinging down from the ceiling at roughly fifty miles per hour was one of the things that could, personal shield be damned. It was part of, though not entirely, the reason I had shoved Seivarden out of the way to take the blow myself. Had it struck Seivarden, she would already be dead. At least I had been able to live long enough to ensure that the miners would be rescued.

Now I was hovering on the edge of consciousness, my mind drifting as I tried to steady my breathing and lessen the pain radiating out from the injury and into my chest. Mentally, I cataloged the process of my demise; it would be slow, involving blood flooding my lungs. I was going to drown in the one thing meant to keep me alive.

Well. I was no stranger to dying. I could do it again. 

* * *

  I returned, very slowly, to awareness.

“She was singing.”

The voice sounded familiar. I tried to sharpen my focus, pay closer attention.

“She was - singing, and choking, at the same damned time, a horrible bloody gurgle, but she just kept on doing it because - I think she knew. She knew, she lied to me, she was dying and she just - sent me off - ” They broke off, made a noise that sounded like a sob.

“You know Breq,” said a second voice. This one was brusque, sharp. No-nonsense. “She would never put herself first.”

“I’m not asking her to!” I was awake enough now to recognize this voice as belonging to Seivarden. “I’m asking her to - to think about _me_ for once, Amaat knows I know it’s selfish, but I just - _fuck_.”

“Language,” I rasped, unsurprised to find that my throat felt like it had been sandpapered. I did not make a habit of choking on my own blood, but it seemed like a reasonable side effect from doing so.

“Fleet Captain is awake,” _Mercy of Kalr_ announced belatedly. Seivarden made a strangled sound. I tried to sit up, and found that I could not.

“Fleet Captain,” said the second voice tersely – Medic’s, I realized - “is not to move, under any circumstances, come hell or high water or Anaander Mianaai herself. Fleet Captain is re-growing a significant portion of her torso and internal organs. _Fleet Captain_ ,” and this was quite obviously said through clenched teeth, “needs to exercise significantly more caution in the future when it comes to her personal well-being, and recognize that when she is injured it affects the whole crew.”

I opened my eyes and turned my head to the side. Medic was fussing with something on a tray next to my bed, deliberately not looking at me; with _Mercy of Kalr’_ s help I could see that she was very upset with me, and trying hard not to show how much so.

“The miners?” I asked. It hurt to talk; Ship offered to do it for me, but I refused.

“Seivarden retrieved them,” Medic said shortly. I redirected my gaze; Seivarden was sitting on the corner of a bed across the room from mine, huddled as far up against the wall as she could get and staring down at her mattress. I wanted to reach, to find out what she was feeling, but instead I asked,

“Seivarden, are you alright?”

She didn’t answer for a long moment, but I was patient. Finally, she snapped,

“Define _alright._ ”

“You’re in medical,” I said. “Were you hurt?”

“Nice of you to ask,” she said, and then let out that choked bark of a laugh again. “Nice of you to notice at all.”

“Seivarden,” Medic said harshly. Then, tersely, to me: “She’s not hurt. Not physically, anyway. What happened in the mine took a lot out of her, emotionally.”

“Ah,” I said, and turned back to stare at the ceiling. “Seiv - ”

“I told you to be _alive_ when I got back,” Seivarden exploded. “I told you to - to _not die_ , and you said you’d do your _best_ , which is apparently Breq code for _giving the fuck up_ because you were choking on your own blood when I came back with the miners. I came back, and you were _literally fucking drowning in your own fucking blood_ , and still trying to _sing_ , and if the miners hadn’t helped me carry you out I would have had to come back for you and you’d be _dead_ and then where the _fuck_ would I be?”

The question seemed rhetorical, or at the least, self-explanatory. I answered it anyway. “You’d be the second to Lieutenant Ekalu. I thought the line of command was clearly established - ”

“Breq,” Seivarden snapped, interrupting me for the second time, “shut the _fuck_ up.”

“ _Lieutenant_ ,” chorused Medic and Mercy of Kalr. I closed my eyes.

“It’s fine,” I rasped. “Talking hurts.”

A sharp intake of breath, at that, and I knew it was Seivarden even before I heard her leap off her cot, brushing off Medic and her protests with a frustrated noise and exiting the infirmary.

Things were silent for a time; then Ship spoke in my head, clipped and disapproving.

_If she hadn’t told you off, I would have._

“I know,” I said softly, letting myself sink into the warm slumber of my pain medication. 

* * *

 Seivarden didn’t talk to me for days after that, nor I to her. I had, in my mind, done nothing wrong. Seivarden was alive. The miners were alive. And –

“You’re _alive!”_   _Sphene_ shouted, rushing into my quarters to catch me up in a distinctly un-shiplike embrace. I stood still beneath its attentions, neither rejecting nor returning them.

“Yes,” I said shortly, and then clenched my teeth against the sudden rush of pain as _Sphene_ laid its hand against my stomach and pressed hard.

“Does it hurt, much?” _Sphene_ asked, eyes wide and wondering. “I heard you nearly _died_. And just to save an officer?”

I wasn’t aware that I was making a high-pitched keening noise until Seivarden came barreling into the room, Lieutenant Ekalu and Kalr Five on her heels. _Sphene_ stepped away from me before they reached us, regarding me with interest.

“Fascinating,” it said. My body did not accept the sudden release of pressure very well; blackness swirled at the edges of my vision, and I didn’t realize I was falling until I collided with the strength and support of a pair of vaguely familiar arms. “You’re in that much pain? Surely it wasn’t worth it?”

“Fleet Captain always considers human life worth saving,” Ekalu said sharply. “No matter the cost to herself.”

 “But not her own,” _Sphene_ observed. “I hear she chose to sacrifice herself for you, Seivarden, even though she could have done a much more thorough and expedient job of rescuing those miners. That seems a bit more like she was considering one life over many others, doesn’t it?”

“You weren’t _there_. You don’t _know_ ,” Seivarden spat overhead. So she was the one who had caught me – I should have guessed. The pain and dizziness were not gone, but as they subsided I found my footing and managed to stand up straight. Seivarden tightened her grip on my arm, then begrudgingly let go. 

 “I know plenty of things,” _Sphene_ said haughtily. “For example, I know _you’re_ a complete mess. Breq is the only thing holding you together, and I haven’t a clue why she wastes any time on you at all. No matter how badly you want to kneel to her, she’ll never have you.”

Its face was ancillary-blank as it spoke, belying the amount of venom in its words. Mine was the same, though I had opened my mouth to speak; before I could say anything, however, Seivarden beat me to the punch.

“I know that. Do you think I don’t _know_ that? Breq will _never_ be what I want her to be, and that’s - I’m _fine_ with that, because that’s what makes Breq  _Breq_. I’m mad at her for what she did because I know she’d do it again, because Breq puts everyone else’s lives above her own, even if they’re hopeless _kef_ addicts she never liked to begin with. That's who she is. Breq is better than most people.”

“Of course she is. Because she isn’t a people,” _Sphene_ explained patiently, as if Seivarden was a very small child. “She is a ship. Ships are _designed_ to be better than people. It’s the only way anything gets done.”

Seivarden stepped forward, eyes spitting fire. “I’ve met a lot of ships,” she said lowly. “And I haven’t been as nice to them as I ought to, but I’m learning. I’m learning that ships have feelings too, and wants and needs, and that I _like_ ships. But you?” Seivarden leaned in, a smirk worthy of the House of Vendaai curling across her aristocratic features. “Until I met _you_ , I didn’t know that ships could be _dicks._ ”

 _Sphene_ gasped. Ekalu said “Aatr’s _tits_ , Seiv.” Through Five, _Mercy of Kalr_ announced, “Fleet Captain is about to lose consciousness.”

My first instinct was to protest. My second instinct was to preserve the current state of relations with _Sphene_ by way of causing a distraction from what Seivarden had said; and so I gave in to the darkness that had been pressing persistently at the edges of my vision and dropped to the floor.

* * *

“When I say _limited activity_ , that should be a clue,” Medic snapped. “For instance, if you are hovering on the edge of unconsciousness, you should _sit down_. Better yet, _come back here_. But do _not_ , for the love of Amaat, try to push through it. Your pain threshold is other people’s death threshold.”

“Seivarden,” I slurred past the cocktail of painkiller drugs and sedatives that was coursing through my system.

“She’s not -” Medic began; but, as usual, _Mercy of Kalr_ had anticipated my needs and wants. I heard the slide of the infirmary doors opening, and then a weight settled on my bed.

“I’m here,” Seivarden said shortly. Her voice was an odd combination of anxious and surly. “What do you want?”

I reached out, and she gasped as I curled my gloved fingers around her wrist.

“I want you to know,” I said, opening my eyes, “that _Sphene_ was right. I am a terrible – ” I hesitated at the word _person_. “That day,” I started again, “I could have left you, and gone on to save the miners myself. I should have. I didn’t. And I won’t apologize for that.”

“Breq,” Seivarden said roughly, but I wasn’t done.

“ _Sphene_ was right. There was a judgment call to be made there, a choice, and I made the wrong one. But I think – I think I’ve been making the wrong choices since – for a long time, now.” _Since Anaander Mianaai killed me and the captain I loved_ , I didn’t say.

I wanted to add more. I wanted to say, _I lost Awn_. I wanted to tell Seivarden, _I won’t lose you too_. But the pain was coming back, and my voice wasn’t working, and something wet was dripping onto my wrist and into my glove.

“Breq,” Seivarden said again – through tears, I realized. “Breq, you – you know there are other ways to show people you love them, you don’t have to take a mining tunnel support pole through the stomach. You can just – flowers, or kissing, or you could just _tell me_.”

I blinked past the haze of a renewed dose of painkillers.

“I suppose,” I responded out loud, lacing my fingers through Seivarden’s, “that should have been obvious.”

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading, please kudos comment and subscribe for more fanfics similar to this one
> 
> (this is my first ever imperial radch fic, please tell me what you think, I crave validation)


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